Monday, February 26, 2007

fast cars

So, the night before we headed down to Denver to leave for our Europe/Middle East trip back in December, I made a quick last-minute run to Walmart. I needed airplane munchies and a hat and scarf that would keep me warmer than my homemade versions. And since there are very few places in Laramie to find clothing, Walmart wasn't exactly a bad option.

I was pretty disappointed and a little panicked when I checked the section of women's hats/scarves/gloves and found some picked-over remains from the holiday season. If I remember correctly, the only hat I could find was a very fluffy pink beret, with matching scarf and gloves. Even if I had known at that point that I would soon be in Paris, there is no way in Hades that I would have ever willingly worn a pink fluffy beret, anywhere. I hope that the Parisians would have beaten me over the head with a baguette.

I did find a cute fleece scarf, the last of its kind, but I still needed a hat. My next thought was to check the men's section, since I was thinking a beanie would be a good choice. All I could find were baseball caps, and that definitely wasn't going to do the trick. So I finally found the little boys section, which turned out to have a selection of all kinds of beanies for like $5, that miraculously fit my noggin. Having decided against the Spiderman hat, I picked out a plain black beanie that had a little emblem on it, which I assumed was just the brand of the hat. And because I didn't have a whole lot of other options, I happily purchased the scarf and hat I found at Walmart 3 days after Christmas, and wore both for the majority of our trip.

Last time we got together with my family in Loveland, I wore my beanie. At one point, we were standing outside talking, and my dad points his finger in my direction and says "Porsche". I turned around, thinking there was one parked in the parking lot, until it dawns on me that he's pointing at my hat. Turns out that the little emblem on my hat is the Porsche emblem, and I had no idea.

For some reason it's really amusing to me that I bought a "Porsche" beanie without even realizing it. Heck, I'm guessing that any little kid who wears the hat would have no clue what the symbol was. But maybe if anyone recognizes it, they'll just look at me with a little more mystery than they might have. I only wish that it could have been the Mustang symbol.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

my bum is on the faaaacebook

Facebook statuses that I could put on my Facebook profile right now, and they would be completely accurate:

Erin is missing Mojo Catering.

Erin wishes it were the weekend right now, except that the weekends always fly by, and she never gets as much done as she wants to.

Erin feels very, very blah today.

Erin thinks that maybe the first week of Lent is kicking her in the teeth, just to make sure she's really ready for it.

Erin should feel joy for Lent, and maybe she does, but it's used up all her joy and left her with no joy for much of anything else.

Erin wishes she could remember the quote from John Chrysostom that was in last Sunday's church bulletin.

Erin hopes the dean's office opens back up soon so she can heat up her spaghetti.

Erin needs to make banana bread with the brown bananas.

Erin wishes something would happen that would get future plans in gear again.

Erin should suck it up and stop being so mopey, because even though she's only been feeling it today, it's already getting old. She should also consider actually putting one of these statuses on her Facebook, but probably won't. Which is actually good, because really she should be working right now.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

excuse me while i take my osteoporosis medicine

A few months ago, when I was looking for some crochet information online, I discovered a magazine. A magazine devoted entirely to crochet patterns. And not the kinds of patterns that grandmas choose to make afghans to adorn the backs of their rocking chairs, no, these are much more modern patterns including sweaters, stuffed animals, cool blankets, etc. I was instantly mesmerized.

I requested my FREE! copy, and soon after, I subscribed. I still eagerly await the days when I will come home from work and a new edition will be waiting for me, so I can pore through the contents and try to decide what in the world I might crochet next. Granted, there are a few negatives involved in me getting this magazine. For one, I have officially crossed over to the dark side. I'm one of those people, the annoying crafty people who devote an entire room to their craftiness (ok, so far I've only got a corner of a closet, but we live in a small house). Secondly, not all of the patterns in this magazine are as "hip and modern" as they claim to be. I'm sorry, but I'm never ever going to think that a mustard-colored fuzzy bolero jacket is cute. Never. Ever. And third, the worst of all, I have somehow been characterized by the mailing powers-that-be as a granny in a rocking chair, crocheting doilies. About once a week now I will get some little brochure or catalog containing patterns for hideous-looking afghans, lacy doilies, and now, it's not even ending with the patterns. Now it has moved to catalogs for general old people products. I'm 25 and a half, and I am getting mail that caters to women who are 85 and a half!

I have proof. Two days ago I received a catalog from this company. Some of the things in the catalog I couldn't have come up with in my wildest dreams, like the extremely frightening "Slimming Shapers" or the thing that makes me wonder how much time people really have on their hands, the "Hair Cutting Umbrella". Unfortunately, I can't get the pictures to save as jpg's, or else I'd have a field day with all of these products on my blog. But if you really want to laugh, I suggest going to the website and just doing a little bit of browsing. And I thought Sky Mall could get outlandish.

But you want to know what the worst part of all of this is? I'm slowly giving in to all of it. The prospect of all of this octogenarian mail doesn't keep me from wanting my crochet magazine. I have plans to teach myself knitting this summer. And I actually thought that this doggy sweater and the doggy wearing it were painfully cute.

I guess, at this point, it's useless for me to fight it.

Monday, February 12, 2007


It's been several years since I watched the Grammy's, but I watched them almost all the way through last night, and this is what I've concluded: I'm becoming old and crotchety, I am missing out on a lot of the new stuff, but I still like to shake my boot-ay.

I only got to see part of The Police and their reunion, but it only took a few seconds to remember how Sting's voice can melt a girl's heart. Rarr! I would go to that concert in a heartbeat, but if The Police are in fact doing a tour, I'm sure the ticket prices are way overpriced. And Mary J. Blige was holy-cow-incredible!! Her solo performance was actually emotional for me, and apparently for the audience, too. She even upstaged Ludacris with her back-up vocals on his song (at least in my opinion)- I was very impressed, and very happy about her awards.

Anyway, what makes me realize that I'm getting older, is my use of phrases like "the music these days" and "can you believe My Humps was nominated??". Don't get me wrong, I like Fergie-Ferg, and her humps, but not because either is Grammy material. And I actually felt sorry for Smoky Robinson and Lionel Richie when they were flashingly upstaged by some dude named Chris Brown that I had never heard of before last night. And John Mayer? Please cut your hair.

It seems like only yesterday I was rolling my eyes when my mom would say things like that, and now I have become her. Yikes.

And I don't think my lack of knowledge on some of the new artists is really my fault. We really don't have a good radio station here, or cable, so I am missing out on a lot of what's coming out. This will all most likely (hopefully) change by the fall, when we will be most likely (hopefully) living somewhere else. Where we might be living continues to be on my mind, especially as our possibilities narrow and become more clear, but I am determined to keep my mouth shut until we know more. Or at least keep my fingers shut (?) and not mention it on the blog, because I actually do talk about it a whole bunch. Sometimes I think that I will probably get thrown back into the mainstream music full-force when I've got kids who are old enough to press a button on the radio (if my kids are anything like I was). But the kind of music I will be forced to listen to will be the next decade's Cheetah Girls and Yellowcard, if nannying has taught me anything, and only a 13-year-old girl can appreciate that kind of hooey.

All this being said, I've come to realize that probably nothing will ever pull me away from a good beat. By far the best performance of the night was Shakira and Wyclef doing Hips Don't Lie, if only because it made me want to get up and dance. Shakira did this weird combination of belly dancing and Latin dancing (which makes sense since she's half Lebanese and half Colombian). I would LOVE to be able to dance like that. Of course, I'd love to have abs like that, too.

But the best part of the night was the confirmation that the Dixie Chicks received in their FIVE awards. Yes, 5. Including best album, best country album (hah, suckers), and song of the year. It was great to see the risks they took with their "response" album be received in such a positive way.

Mike and I noticed how new rock music must be in a bad place right now, or something, since most of the nominees for best rock album (Tom Petty, Neil Young, RHCP) were all much older bands. Hopefully some new bands will make their way onto the scene, and not suck. I really don't like the weird, punk, whiney-voice bands that have been coming out lately (see: Yellowcard).

In any case, I'm glad I watched and got myself a little more up to date on what's popular these days. Yes, it is very surprising to see acts like Justin Timberlake, Black Eyed Peas, and James Blunt (bleh) be the headliners these days, but we will see how far they go.

Friday, February 09, 2007

hot topic

The latest news on Ted Haggard has got me thinking. Thinking about homosexuality, and religion and politics clashing, and the Christian church in all of its not-exactly-glorious glory.

Of course, Ted Haggard was a pastor in Colorado Springs who was forced to acknowledge his "dark side" when a male prostitute revealed their ongoing relationship to the public at large. This all happened just 3 months ago, and now Haggard has made a statement saying that he has realized that he is completely heterosexual. And he is going to be a psychologist.

Yeah...I'm not so convinced. First of all, what kind of a qualifier is that, to say you're "completely heterosexual", and why is it so important? And how could it possibly be true after 3 years of an illicit relationship with another man, within just 3 months of being put on the spot for it? Did they drain the gayness out of him with a tube? Does he have a split personality? I'm afraid that all of the assumptions underlying this man's Christian viewpoint have forced him into a corner, where he can either find a new way to repress his feelings, or be more honest and just completely lose his family, his friends, and his mind.

I don't feel qualified to make any kind of statements here about the general Christian stance on homosexuality, but I get so frustrated to see people make arguments in this backward manner, where the conclusion is already there, and we just have to justify it. For example, "homosexual marriage is wrong, and we can see that's true because so many homosexuals have promiscuous relationships or relationships that end". (Um, has anyone checked up on heterosexual relationships lately?) Or, from a different perspective "Christians are idiots to believe in God, because obviously God doesn't exist". I had a professor last year, who was so determined to be right about God and science, that it didn't matter what kinds of arguments he used to reach his atheistic conclusion. At least think through what you're saying before you say it- seriously. I have no respect for this type of debating, no matter what someone's conclusion is. It becomes obvious very quickly that you don't know what you're talking about, when all that matters is this one thing you're sure you believe in.

And this is what I think Mr. Haggard, and other Christians, are doing with many arguments. It is absolutely not an option for him to consider a homosexual lifestyle, so he must try to extract it at all costs. But how safe is he from the situation he just got into at the end of 2006? It reminds me of the movie Saved, and the attempt to "reprogram" the gay character, even if it means that his girlfriend sleeps with him and ends up in the midst of a teenage pregnancy. We can't consider the possibility that there might be another option to this whole dilemma.

I remember a guy from Focus on the Family coming to speak in chapel when I was in college, and he's essentially a "reformed homosexual". He spoke to us about how, growing up, he lived a gay lifestyle, but was basically cured of it and brought into Christianity. In some ways, I guess I'm happy for him. The way he described it, he was obsessed with his weight, was doing drugs, was sleeping around, and according to him this all stemmed from a bad relationship with his father. So if he was able to overcome a bad family relationship and live in a healthier way, then good for him. But of course his Christian mentor saw no other way to reform him than to cure the homosexuality part itself. I just wish Christians would give this more than 3 minutes of their time. And some do, but many don't.

To attempt to be entirely honest with myself, I try to think through different situations that I could be put in and see how I would react to them and why I might react that way. To be completely honest, I don't think I would be devastated or anything to find out that my kid was gay (which is actually a pretty big statement coming from a devout Christian). But also to be completely honest, I don't think that I'd feel comfortable being in a church where members were gay, and fine with it, and practicing, I guess. I definitely don't think I could handle gay clergy. And trying to figure out why I feel that way is a big mystery. Is it because it's just a basic Christian assumption with no backup except history and tradition? Is it because I just really can't imagine an Orthodox Christian church having to deal with this? (Although I am positive they have had to deal with this, I just haven't seen much of it.) Or is it because of some underlying genuine aversion to the idea, which is grounded in more than just circumstance? God, I know how many people I could potentially offend by saying all of this, but I think it's important to be honest and hope that it will stir up some sort of respectful dialogue with people who disagree with me.

I guess all I know is that I'm glad I haven't had to deal with it personally. I really don't know what Ted Haggard is going through, and so I can't judge him too harshly. But I hope that he's not being forced into a corner that he can't maintain. And I hope he thinks twice about becoming a counselor before he's spent more time really learning something from this experience- something I don't think could happen in 3 months, especially when he wasn't the one who decided to reveal the issue in the first place.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Victor Garber Part 2

And here is Victor Garber playing the very serious Jack Bristow on Alias. He's no longer the savior of the world, but the CIA agent who tries to kill his Russian spy traitor wife, Irina. I don't know why, but the difference cracks me up.

Victor Garber Part 1

Here is Victor Garber in the 1973 film Godspell...

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

anonymous complaint

Letter to the person who laughed at me yesterday when I slipped on the ice:

Dear young man with the stupid face and the stupid laughs coming out of your stupid mouth at my expense,

You are a stupid head. At least I didn't actually fall, so neener neener. What if I had? Would you then laugh even harder? Would you pee your pants? Because that would be funny.


Someone who thinks you're stupid.